


September

by dovingbird



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even at thirty-eight, Colton can’t be bored with life. Not with three kids and a brown-eyed dynamo for a wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	September

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a prompt response: "Colton Dixon and Skylar Laine in the future. They are married with three kids."

Even at thirty-eight, Colton wasn't bored with life. How could he be? He had a successful career. He had a thriving ministry every time someone listened to one of his songs. He had a family.  
  
Most importantly, that family included the brown-haired dynamo currently sitting on the living room couch with her nose buried in notebook.  
  
Oh, Skylar. He shook his head with a smile and rubbed the back of his neck. When that woman got started with her song lyric writing, nothing could stop her.  
  
But she was growing tired. His smile faded slightly. He could see it. The wrinkles in her forehead were a little deeper. She was wearing sweatpants. She was biting her bottom lip. That much wasn't allowed. He'd told her time and time again that if there was anyone biting that lip, it was going to be him.  
  
He glanced toward the stereo. Something needed to get her away from that notebook before she ripped it apart in her frustration. He considered it for a long moment. And then he knew.  
  
He crossed the room without any acknowledgment from Skylar and checked the player, curiously spinning through the available songs. Best not to look too overeager. It had to be soft, subtle timing, something that would surprise her, not annoy her for the interruption. It had...to be...now.  
  
The song he turned on wasn't anything new. If anything, it was old. It was overplayed. It was something forgettable. He'd performed it first in 2012, not for the last time, but he knew now he would never perform it again.  
  
It wasn't because it was tired or useless. No, he hadn't even written it. It was because it held an infinitely intimate place in his heart now, and he couldn't share that with anyone who wasn't the beautiful woman sitting on the couch.  
  
The soft scale of chimes that sounded made her pencil freeze in place. And then the quiet piano. He watched the breath catch in her throat and how she glanced up at him, eyes widening in pleasure.  
  
He extended his hand and tilted his head to the side, softly smiling. "Dance with me?"  
  
She grinned at him and, for the first time in hours, set the notebook and pencil aside. She rose and took his hand, and he pulled her close. He nestled her against his body, marveling not for the first time just how perfectly she fit against his chest, and guided her in a slow dance.  
  
He touched his lips gently to the top of her head before he breathed the words along with the song. "Do you remember the twenty-first night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders while chasing the clouds away."  
  
Her arms tightened around his waist, hands clasping against the small of his back, and she sighed softly. He knew that sigh. After fifteen years, he knew her sounds so very well. This was a sigh of contentment. It was a sigh of everything being perfectly right in the world. He never wanted her to feel any other way.  
  
"Our hearts were ringing in the key that our souls were singing as we danced in the night. Remember how the stars stole the night away?"  
  
It had been so long since they'd done this, but she remembered the ritual. She gently stood on his feet and let him guide, like he was dancing with their daughter instead. Perhaps one day their daughter would ask how he knew how to dance her around the room so well. He couldn't wait to tell her how he'd perfected it.  
  
"Ba-di-dah, say, do you remember? Ba-di-dah, dancing in September? Ba-di-dah, never was a cloudy day..." His voice faltered when he felt the first trace of wetness through his t-shirt, penetrating down to his skin. He looked down at Skylar and furrowed his eyebrows. "You all right, love?"  
  
She choked out a shaky laugh and shook her head. "No. No, I'm not."  
  
He came to a sudden stop and furrowed his eyebrows as he reached and cupped her cheeks. "Shh, shhshhshh, tell me what's wrong."  
  
"I just..." She looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, and sniffled. "I'm scared. I-I'm afraid I'm going to just...fade into the background. There's all these new singers out there and my albums aren't selling and I-"  
  
"Skylar-"  
  
"Maybe I'm just not a good musician, you know?"  
  
He came to his knees in a fervent, passionate rush, and gripped her hands tightly. "You are a beautiful musician," he whispered, narrowing his eyes in intensity. "You've got more soul and heart than half the people out there on the market. And your fans love you. They get you."  
  
She looked away from him as she always did when she cried, as if she didn't want him to see her weakness, as if he didn't like her vulnerability. As if she didn't understand that her vulnerability was one of the most beautiful things about her. He'd seen her broken. He'd seen her in ecstasy. He'd seen every side of her that he could imagine, but it always came back to when she was most open to him, whether in pleasure or in sadness. It broke his heart to see her cry. But it warmed him in every way that she always trusted him with this part of her.  
  
"Don't stop," he murmured. He shook his head. "Don't ever stop."  
  
Skylar nodded, squeezing his hands. "You're right." She laughed again, though he felt relieved when he realized it sounded far less broken. "I couldn't stop if I tried. I'd die if I did."  
  
He came to his feet again, rested a hand against her soft neck, and kissed her gently. "That's because you're not just a singer. Or a musician. You're an artist. You have the power to bring the world to its knees with just one song." Their eyes locked and he held the gaze firmly, pouring every bit of confidence and love and adoration he had in her and for her into that one look. "You're so good at what you do. That's what caught my eye in the first place, remember?"  
  
She smiled. The tears were drying. "And then the duets-"  
  
"-and then the tours-"  
  
"-and then September."  
  
Nearly everything happened for them in September. Their first official tour together had been in September. Their first date happened on September 13th. He'd proposed just under a year later. Their tours and albums kept that engagement long, over a year in length, and arduous as it had been, here they were fifteen years later, far on the other side of it, living their passions, living their dreams.  
  
Making new passions. Making new dreams.  
  
"Take a break tonight," he said softly, drawing a hand through her hair. "The lyrics can wait."  
  
She nuzzled against his hand, lips parting, and his heart kicked up a few beats. "They want this song by the end of next week."  
  
"You have three platinum albums. They can wait a little longer for a song." He tilted his head to the side and exhaled, loud and sudden. "The kids can't."  
  
Skylar suddenly furrowed her brow and groaned. "Kids. I forgot the kids. And here I was looking forward to a long night with just you."  
  
He licked his lips in a sense of anticipation before he smiled. "Their bedtime's ten o' clock," he reminded her. "You've got bedtime story duty with Charity tonight."  
  
"And you've got to pick Matthew and Luke up from soccer practice. And then dinner and homework and..." She opened her eyes and batted her long lashes playfully. "Meet you at ten-fifteen?"  
  
He leaned in and kissed her forehead, lingering until she heard her sigh softly in longing against his neck. "I'll have the bathtub full."


End file.
